


Sent Reeling

by SIX_Calavera



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Dubious Consent, F/M, Light Bondage, Manipulation, Mental Torture, Reader Insert, Smut, Starkiller Base more like sex dungeon, Torture, bordering noncon, dubcon, kylo ren/ reader - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-06
Updated: 2016-02-08
Packaged: 2018-05-18 13:08:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5929555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SIX_Calavera/pseuds/SIX_Calavera
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Master of the Knights of Ren, Commander of The First Order; an instrument of the dark side, a vessel for the force, and a quick death...if angered. Which- according to rumors, is quite easily done.<br/>His hands are clasped behind his back. They clench as I look away from him insolently. He growls as he lurches forward and grips my chin. My face is forcefully twisted back in his direction. An angry sneer on my face, and the sound of his leather gloves straining around my jaw.</p><p>“You will give me what I want.” he commands.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. White Noise

A cool voice echoes from a stark black mask...

“...It makes no difference to me. You know I can take whatever I want...”

His mere presence seems to fill the room with a suffocating energy I have never encountered before. 

His voice filters through his mask as he stalks around me, and the result is an inhuman staticky rumble, deep and resonating. 

White noise. 

When he speaks, it's in a low calculated drawl, seemingly only sparing as many words as absolutely necessary for each sentence. 

It feels as if his voice is some corporeal thing, stretching out from him and caressing my skin. He speaks to me and I want to recoil away from him as if every word is his very hand on my cheek. 

And yet the only things directly touching me are the silver shackles tightened against my wrists and ankles, tightening me to the cold metal slab against my back that keeps me horizontal- in standing position before my captor- and the stale air of the cell I've been stuck in for- I can't seem to remember how long... 

But I am constantly reminded of the cold. Shivers wrack my body and my skin is perpetually in goosebumps. That voice assaults my ears once again and my eyes flick upwards to catch him returning to his familiar position, standing before me.

“...though it would be in your best interests to cooperate.” he finishes. 

I stare at him but say nothing. 

Dressed in black robes- his mark as a Sith, and a mask that covers any semblance of human facial characteristics. It makes me feel incredibly alone. As if there's no one in the room with me at all. Only a shadow. Watching. 

In place of a response, I twist and struggle against my restraints. As if this time they might finally give and I'll realize the strength to break from them. 

But of course- they don't. He catches my movement and reminds me for the hundredth time that-

“There is no point in resisting...there is no escape.” he states calmly, confidently. Sounding as sure, as I am in denial, of it's truth. 

The light above me illuminates only a small circumference of my surroundings. My entire universe restricted by this bright light. Beyond it? Darkness...akin to that of the empty vacuum of space. But in this universe, all the stars have been extinguished, all the planets and moons have died and all that is left is the infinite, suffocating darkness. And so, I am forced to cling to this small circle of light as if it is my only refuge, if only to keep myself grounded. And sane. 

I try to keep a firm grip on my small bubble of reality. The cold shackles, my own wavering breath...and that penetrating voice emanating from the dark knight still standing before me. 

Kylo Ren. 

Master of the Knights of Ren, Commander of The First Order; an instrument of the dark side, a vessel for the force, and a quick death...if angered. Which- according to rumors, is quite easily done.

His hands are clasped behind his back. They clench as I look away from him insolently. A grimace on my face as I refuse to show any fear or heed any of his commands.

He growls as he lurches forward and grips my chin. My face is forcefully twisted back in his direction. An angry sneer on my face, and the sound of his leather gloves straining around my jaw.

“You will give me what I want.” he commands. 

“Don’t count on it...” I snarl back...baring my teeth in a hateful sneer. 

I've heard the stories...I've even seen the feared- and equally ridiculed -saber itself, once before. But I won't be intimidated, I won't be swayed, I refuse to break. 

His grip suddenly lessened. 

As if reading my mind he replies “Do you have any idea how many others before you have thought the exact same thing...?” 

He waits for a reply but I give him none. I can't seem to avoid a checkmate, my words work against me. So at this moment the only solution I see is to simply not play. 

For a few short moments nothing but the numbing sound of his breathing fills my senses. 

The deep, deafening, pauses between irritatingly short sentences. A deep penetrating voice, locking me in a strange sense of limbo. White noise, the sound of a scrambled signal. The dull click in his mask just before a breath, before he opens his mouth and another word leaves lips I have never seen. His hand on my chin. It's strange...a sense of numbness washes over me. It isn't pleasant...I need something to hold on to. I begin to lose my grip.... 

Listen to the patterns. Hold on to what you see. What you hear. The white noise.

I say nothing as I continue to stare into his mask. Perhaps if I peer hard enough into the darkness where his eyes should be, they will reveal themselves to me, ending this one sided death stare. 

The noise came again “...each one had that same look on their face. So stoic. And yet each one left this cell only a fraction of what they once were. In the end you'll beg for the chance to tell me what I want to hear. ” 

Damn it. I can't just sit here and listen to his speeches forever. A move must be made eventually, even if it means having him lunge at me again. Just a small one. Try not to reveal anything more....

I wrench my chin from his loosened grip, “You obviously think very highly of yourself...” I snickered “...your arrogance will be your downfall.”

His hand returned to it's spot behind his back.

I hear what sounds like the clicking of a tongue.

“Perhaps.... But until then, I am in this cell with you. And there's no denying that in comparison to myself you are nothing but a very small insect...”

His hand slowly reached out to me. Creeping up my body, never touching me, to pause at my face. 

“...and I hold your life in my hands.” 

His palm hovered just before my eyes,“Shall I remind you..?” 

I stared at his leather clad hand, Inches away from my face, and I squint to keep him in focus. 

All at once a heavy weight rapidly spreads over my entire body, threatening to drag me down straight through the reflective floorboards. 

It was without warning, It felt as if every part of my body was suddenly thrust into its own tailor-made hell.  
My head felt like it was going to burst, my eyes clouded and I feared I might go blind, my extremities felt as if they were being held only centimeters above an open fire. 

I wanted to close my eyes and let the dark energy dissect me completely. So desperately it injects itself into me, I could let the poison consume me. But my instincts won't allow it. I can't allow it. I fight back despite myself and with what little strength I have left I force him into my view again.

His voice is the only thing that cuts through the pain. 

“Everyone is afraid of something. It's that fear that keeps them fighting a losing fight. The pain that keeps them moving towards the inevitable end. You shouldn't deny it either. The pain, do not be afraid...I feel it too....” his words are slow, I...I don't understand them. And his sentences are drawn out, like he has all the time in the world. 

Though, in truth, he does. No one knows where I am, no one would even know where to start looking if they noticed me missing. Time isn't reaching me here. In vacuum; time, like fire, flows differently. 

This struggle...I feel like I'm losing it. I'm straining just to keep him in my line of sight. I feel like he's tearing me apart. I can sense painful memories that were once wrapped up and buried nicely within my psyche are being torn up and strewn before me. Fears I thought I had successfully forgotten and repressed, are once again piercing my heart. He's ripping me open and laying me bare. The stories...they were true, what he told me...was true. 

But even in the worst pain there can always be a kernel of resolve; of hope, that can never be extinguished. Even in the deepest darkness, in the most broken of souls.... There can be light.

“Not...a word...” I scold myself under my breath. 

My skin reddens around my eyes and tints my forehead in strain. My fists involuntarily clench as if a surge of electricity is travelling through me, and there's nothing I can do as my nails dig into my palms so deep that the half moons begin to bleed. I just have to hold out...just a while longer...

He laughs softly. White noise. I groan.   
“How refreshing it is to peer inside minds that hold fast to foolish wants and dreams. Susceptible to childish fear. Very reaffirming.”

His hand falls away and I let out all the air I had held in, all at once the weight seems to dissipate and return to, whatever dark corners of the room it seemed to have come from, and to it's summoner. I suck in as much of that stale air as I can, coughing and trying desperately to moisten my dry throat.

“I can teach you...” he says to me “...I can teach you to let it all go...to forget. You can't command the force. But you can strengthen your resolve using the teachings of The Dark Side. Work with me, and I can release you from fear. From dreams that will never be.” he promises. Lies that sound surprisingly beautiful. 

Beads of sweat fall to the ground before me. My hair sticks to my face. I raise my head; my neck creaks, and my muscles scream at me.

I manage a weak, wretched smile before I speak.

“You talk about weakness, and pain...fear, wants and wishes. You sound as if you remember these things better than you let on...” I say, I catch my breath. And in the frigid air of this cell the sweat on my face begins to dry, making the skin of my forehead feel entirely too tight. 

He shifts only slightly, giving me no hint on what he might be thinking.

Assuming I am getting a reaction, I smirk and continue “...keep your wretched teachings. The emptiness inside you is not something I crave. There are some wants I couldn't live without, their pain more addicting and more tempting than anything you could offer. Denial of their fulfilment rewarding you with a delicious sort of insanity...perhaps remembering that is something ‘I’ should teach ‘you’.” I raise an eyebrow at him, a smile on my face that communicates a challenge more than anything else. 

There is a fleeting pause, and I think Kylo Ren is going to kill me right there. But he doesn't. Instead his head dips, and he turns on his heel to leave. 

I hear him sigh frustratedly, “I will rid you of that sense of humor eventually. There is no rush, I will break you and I will take my time doing so.”

Once he reaches the door he turns his head to me one last time. 

“Good bye.” he says before his fingers dance on the lock and the door hisses closed behind him.

Damn it. 

His farewell hangs in the air and is all I have keeping me company as the room seems to grow darker than it was before, my island of light shrinking around me, leaving me in pitch black. A void without stars, unreachable by time.

...

Kylo Ren leaves the cell and walks hurriedly down the hall. He doesn't move in any particular direction, no real destination in mind. Simply moving wherever there is space like he suddenly became of gaseous density, moving between open spaces without thinking. He mulls over the exchange between you and himself. 

That feeling was back once again, that infernal, damning, feeling of...doubt. That...tiny...maggot, in his heart. Wriggling again, awoken by the words spoken to him. Tearing holes in him he'd need to painstakingly close up again. He can't allow light to shine through. He can't. 

He growls to himself, shaking his head to his own questions...

‘What if you're right?’ 

What if he hasn't killed enough of himself yet. What if he does remember those wants...and not only that but finds that he still craves them. He stared into your eyes and though they couldn't reflect his own, in them he sensed an undeniable familiarity far more snaring and complex than all the other dangers that triggered the maggot. It was something the likes of which he had not felt since he last sensed his father's presence. But this was something he couldn't discuss in council with anyone or anything. To be brought back to this place by a mere stranger...his master would ridicule him. And so, he had immediately attempted to dismiss it. 

But as he picked through his thoughts now, he realizes that it was to no avail. He still feels it...feels you...

And then you hinted at something far more atavistic. He should have been repulsed, but for some impossible reason his lips had parted, and his breath hitched. And instead he drank in your words. His first mistake was allowing you to continue speaking. 

He couldn't believe it. And yet, your words had rung out clearly in his head. 

He was still young, he remembered those wants, those moments that left you twisting and turning all night long, sleepless. Even though he had only very few years to fill with such experiences he still...he understood what you meant. Such simple ideas, harmless feelings more addicting than anything. And even when they are unrequited...even that feeling is delicious in it's own way. 

‘Yes...I do remember...’ 

A flutter of the heart and you're out of your mind all day. A single searing look and there's nothing else in the world you could possibly want more than the person wearing it. And what you had offered...his gut had twisted...

‘What was this...?’

A piercing fear gripped his heart and, at that moment, he was seconds from grasping your neck with his own hands and commanding you to stop talking but- then he realized it.   
That deepening smile on your face. You were playing with him, testing him. Trying desperately to get some kind of reaction out of him. And somehow you had managed it, managed to stir that damned slumbering maggot.  
That- that was not supposed to happen...   
That was not supposed to happen!

The maggot twisted and squirmed much more violently now. And his paced quickened. desperate now to reach his chambers for fear that he might destroy another section of this fucking metal tomb.   
He barely noticed the two Troopers shuffling out of his way in avoidance as he stomped along, eyeing him only momentarily as he passed by, decidedly shrugging it off- they were simply happy they hadn't barrelled into him. 

Kylo found himself quickly shutting himself inside his quarters and removing his mask as fast as he could. The respirator, that served to purify his air and warp his voice, hissed as it lifted upon small automated hinges to expose his mouth, his two hands pulling the whole thing away, as if the inside was burning against his skin. His trembling hand reached up to wipe his forehead, finding dark wisps of obsidian hair were damp with sweat...


	2. Promise of Destruction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nothing is ever black and white. Nor should it be.

The night passes slowly but eventually I do fall asleep. No choice really, not much I could do to combat the fatigue that overtook my body as time went on, and eventually I was forced to surrender.

And I dream.   
I dream of the cell I am in. 

Unbelievably so, even my thoughts were chained to the insides of this cell... 

But...for some reason...I dream of Kylo Ren. He stands in front of me and again his hand reaches out to me, his power wrapping around my throat...constricting.   
I don’t see his eyes through his mask but his gaze seems to be locked on my neck as he squeezes, and squeezes, lifting me off the ground. I can't even force out a single word to beg him to stop, as I claw at an invisible pair of hands.   
Suddenly his head shifts upward and he looks at me; his grip lessens and I feel the energy waning, slithering off me like a lazy snake until finally- It's gone. 

Slowly, he lowers me back down. His head cocks to the side, asking a question I don’t hear. Without warning his body jerks as if he has been shot. Again, and again and I realize that light is beginning to shine through him. Giant holes are appearing all over his body, like a doll an angry child is poking with a needle. Again and again until there was more empty space than there was Kylo Ren.  
Light- blinding light shining through the punctures, illuminating the darkness, brighter and brighter until...I couldn't see him anymore...he was gone. And all that was left was a light burning as bright as the sun in the middle of endless darkness threatening to consume me as well. 

 

I awoke with a start- I felt like I had been forced underwater and starved of air. I quickly notice that Kylo Ren is already sitting before me. Crouching low to the ground. 

No time to compose myself. 

Immediately I put on a steely gaze in defense, despite my shaken appearance I try my best to hide my feelings. 

‘That dream...what was that?’

I awake to the man I had just witnessed be destroyed before my very eyes....there is no better example for the word “uncomfortable”.   
My brow twitches and I’m afraid he’ll notice my confusion, the fear in my eyes. 

But there's no point really. There's nothing I can do about my erratic breathing and sweat littered face. 

...

He watches you. Your shaky puffs of air, your dilated pupils, your attempt at a threatening gaze.... 

He had been sitting there for a while now. It was obvious you were having a nightmare.

He wonders what exactly it was about. Though he is certain he could guess.

He is surprised he is even here, to be honest. He wasn't sure if he’d be able to face you again, and it may be a reckless decision to be here. But- in a way, to avoid you would have been admitting defeat in a much more condemning sense.

He shifts his weight slightly, still on his haunches, and is the first to speak....  
...

“You talk in your sleep.” he says. His voice barely above a whisper.

My face twists and I scoff, put off by wondering how long he has been sitting there. Watching me. 

“You're gonna start watching me sleep now?” I ask incredulously, a slight crack in my voice.

“You said my name.”

I- I curse under my breath...my dream...I stare at him wide eyed and my stomach tightens. I swallow deeply, hoping to smoothen the passage for an answer to arrive but, nothing comes out. Did I...call out to him...? My face grows hotter and I pray he doesn’t pry any further.

He cocks his head to the side, mirroring that image in my dream and I feel my heart jump.

I can’t tell if he is amused...I can’t see if he’s smiling but- somehow I imagine he is. At this moment I can clearly picture that quirk of his lips as he smirks, just behind that mask.

“A nightmare...perhaps?” he muses, but soon brings up another point, clicking his tongue, “You also said another name. Repeatedly. Who was he?”

I exhale, admittedly grateful he changed the subject, even if only slightly. I would have preferred more heavy interrogation to these seemingly conversational questions.

“Why do you care?” I spit at him.

“I don't.” He silently rises and begins moving towards me. A looming shadow, stopping directly in front of me, hands clasped behind his back, cutting a familiar silhouette. Offering no more explanation. 

I sigh deeply, conceding. It’s not like he’ll just leave if I refuse to answer.

“Someone I used to know....” I relent.

“What happened to him?” 

His questions held no real tinge of curiosity. They were posed as if I was someone he had no real interest in speaking to but simply had to.

I growled, insulted now that he'd even have the gall to ask me such questions. This has nothing to do with him.

“I don’t know.” I say

He hums at me, a slight tinge of amusement in his voice. “You are lying...”

“So what if I am?”

“Did you love him?”

I looked away from him in disgust, I was aghast and frightened of these questions. They were far too personal, and to let someone like him know anything more about me could be incredibly dangerous. Not to mention...this was embarrassing...I did not appreciate him causing such a feeling.

“Is this your new, twisted, way of torturing me?” I asked.

He ignores my question “I’ll take that as a ‘yes’”

“Take it however you want.” I throw back at him. 

In truth, it was someone I had loved, even admired for a while. It was bad timing that I’d dream of him now. We had simply grown apart. He was a pilot who never slowed down, and I liked that, but I was stubborn and needed my feet planted firmly on the ground. It was my association with him and his faction that had put me in this situation in the first place. I wasn't even a part of The Resistance anymore....   
But- irritatingly so, I still had the same urge to protect them and what they stood for.

“A story told and lived many times...” He began, seems it's about time for a monologue, “...a love that ends without warning, how it always ends. And all you're left with are worthless memories. Why can’t you see how meaningless that is? You have gained nothing, and lost everything.”

His bleak outlook on everything was like chisel to a stone. It slowly chips away at you until you give, until everything he says starts to make more and more sense. His voice creating a slow growing maze of thorns you find yourself falling deeper and deeper into, everything you believed in getting caught and torn on every thorn. 

You wouldn't think so at first but, giving in to it is a dangerously seductive notion. Especially now, deprived of sunlight, food and water. I don't even have any way of knowing when the sun has risen or set on this metallic, planetary weapon.

It's easier to believe what is simple, to want what is directly in front of you. 

Everything flows differently in vacuum. Light, darkness, time, everything....

It behaves differently. My own thoughts and emotions are no different. Flowing recklessly and difficult to perceive. Reality is warped and nothing is as easy as it might have seemed only yesterday...or was it last week?

I began to speak but my voice begins to waver.. 

“It...it wasn’t all meaningless. It couldn't have been. Things like that can't be completely worthless. Just because a connection is lost doesn't mean that everything it signified is lost as well. To allow oneself to become vulnerable is not weakness but strength. An action like that can never be meaningless, can never be worth giving up...can it?” uncertainty was beginning to lace itself in increasing density throughout my words, unsure of who it was I attempting to convince now. Doubt, is as dangerous as fear and hate.

White noise snapped me out of my trance and inner turmoil.

“Oh, no?” he challenged me.

Kylo Ren’s hand reached up to his mask, slender fingers pressed firmly along either side of his face, causing the mask to hiss and release him from its grasp. His heavy, black hood fell away and he placed his mask down on a cylindrical pillar that came only a few inches above his waist.

He turned to me, and for the first time I saw his face. So, this is Kylo Ren. 

His skin is pale, his face is long--’how fitting’ I thought.-- with piercing dark eyes, and a strong nose. Taking in his appearance now, I couldn't help but think that even without his mask...he’s lost none of that overbearing presence that follows him. His lips are full, and a rosy pink color that borders on red, as if he had been out in the cold wind and snow. 

Strangely, what intrigued me the most was his hair...I never would have imagined his hair would be so long; shoulder length and wavy. Hidden underneath the hood and helmet, and as dark as the spaces between stars. 

He was handsome...tall and lean...and I wondered what he must have been like before- before he was a sith, before he put on the mask and buried his old life. Before he sacrificed everything in search of power.

As I took in his appearance, he continued to speak. “Perhaps ‘I’ can show ‘you’. The freedom I have when I shut out all emotion. And how weak you become when you can’t.” 

He begins to walk closer to me, he leans in to look me in the eyes. He’s been this close before but now I can feel his breath on my skin. And for the first time my mind fully realizes that he is a person, not a block of ice wrapped in black cloth. And somehow that thought chills me deeper than his mask ever could. 

His voice is rich, and a deceiving sort of gentle. Again’ seeing him- hearing him- in the flesh is more jarring than the Image he creates. 

Perhaps it's because it proves that anyone can be corrupted. He was once no different than me. He’s just a man. Someone’s son. Just a human. He could have been anyone. Anything.

Finally I can look him in the eyes but that hatred I felt before is gone. I should have been trying to set him aflame with a glare but all I can think right now is how familiar his eyes are. 

It is a feeling I know is treacherous, but it tugs at me so strongly it's impossible to ignore.

I turn my head away from him and stare at the emptiness of the other side of the room, I pray that it's entirety becomes just as empty, and I'll turn around to see that he’s gone. I simply hadn't woken up from my nightmare. That's all. 

But a voice tickles my ear, I squeeze my eyes shut and the fantasy is short lived.

“This will break you. And after...you will beg me to rid you of what you feel.” his voice is so close, I am afraid to turn around...what he’s planning is a mystery to me. But I will face any challenge he confronts me with. 

Eventually he will realize...that he will just have to kill me.

I finally muster the courage to turn to face him, his face is centimeters from mine. I can taste his breath now. I shudder, my own lungs betraying me.

“What are you going to do?” I ask, locking eyes with him. Again that same horrifying feeling of familiarity. Do we both feel it? I stare harder, reaching out with my feelings to find...something....anything to hold on to. To help me make sense of things. But his gaze is impossible to decipher...

“I am going to show you the extent of your fragility.” 

And with that, before I could even respond, he closed whatever space there was between us and his lips were on mine.

I yelped in surprise, and immediately began to resist. I strained to turn my head away from him, but quick as lightning his hand gripped my chin tightly and in my shock I opened my mouth to let out another small cry. Kylo Ren squeezed my jaw, the pain and his slender fingers holding me in place, forcing my lips to part. And he took this opportunity to explore my mouth with his tongue. 

I wanted to bite him, to sink my teeth into his tongue so deep I could spit it out at his feet. But before I could, his tongue would slither away from me, only to return when his kiss became harder and deeper.

His lips were soft and warm, but the kiss was harsh. Full of teeth and anger. 

I gasped for air when his lips finally left mine...his taste lingering in my mouth. And moaned when he began to trail his lips along my jaw...I grimaced at my own voice, and felt sick to my stomach.

Suddenly, he stepped back and slipped his cloak from his shoulders, letting it fall to the ground. His figure was now a much stronger outline. A slender waist and broad shoulders, sinewy muscles playing beneath thick black cloth. 

His hand motioned towards me in a quick fluid motion, as if he was ushering someone out of the way. Instantly the shackles that were keeping my hands tethered to the metal slab suddenly popped open. I stared at them, but didn’t move them from their position right away.

Kylo Ren began stalking towards me once again. His lips, angry red from his furious kiss.

“Go ahead...” he said as he walked closer. “...fight back. Prove me wrong.”

My back had only lifted from the metal a few inches before his arm shot out and he shoved me back against it, my head knocking back on the metal.

My hands were free but they didn't move...his hands slid from my chest to wrap around my throat. 

“You can’t.” he whispered, he leaned in close to my ear and breathed in deeply. “...you're powerless...and from what, my touch?” 

I groaned and his mouth found mine again, this time there was no denying the rise in temperature I felt when he touched me, my own lips moving in tandem with his own. And I hated myself for it. How quickly I had surrendered. And how willingly I had thrown myself into oblivion.

Instinctively my hands rose up and gripped his robes, pulling him slightly closer. This can’t be all me, this can’t be my body, this has to be another trick. A mind trick, yes! There is no way I can accept this, no way I can admit the way I feel. Or am I just excusing myself so that I may continue? 

No, no, no that isn't it. I wanted to scream at that moment, how I wished I had the strength to punch him right in his fucking face. Force him to end it. To kill me, or leave me to the vacuum again. Just...end it. But I...didn't.  
I just- didn't. Instead I pulled his body against mine. I wanted more of him and I felt his lips twitch into a smile.. 

His breathing quickened and he pulled away to looked at me. The smirk was suddenly gone. His stare was a thousand miles away. For a moment I thought he looked...afraid. I looked down between our bodies and realized I was still gripping his clothing. 

He growled and gripped my wrists, pulling them away from him. He slammed them back against the cold metal and the latched closed on them again. A headache I had only barely received a reprieve from and just like that, they were back. I felt like crying, like screaming. 

‘Let me go. Please let me go.’ I cried inwardly. 

Kylo Ren’s hands gripped the hem of my shirt and using an unimaginable strength he tore it from my body, leaving me exposed in only my undergarment. The frigid air now braces against my bare skin without mercy. 

I gasp as Kylo Ren runs his gloved hand from my stomach, to my chest and to my throat. The sensation of the leather caressing my body, and his hand sliding along me to its favored position at my throat makes me shiver. 

I stare at his face, my lips forming a faux snarl. At this point I know that most of my fire has been extinguished, any fight I put up is no more than a desperate attempt to lie to him. To myself. 

I never expected to be in such a delicate situation and in such a delicate position. Watching his eyes move across my body and into my eyes, had hit me with a feeling of helplessness I had not expected. A firm strike to my heart and I never even put up my hands.

My heart was pounding, and in my eyes I knew there was fear, but I did my best to keep the mask from slipping.

“What are you doi-*gack*” His fist clenched around my throat, cutting my question short.

“Quiet.”

He let go and covered my mouth with the hand he had around my throat and pressed his solid body against me. Any noises I might make were muffled against the palm of his hand. I felt his lips ghost along the skin of my neck, he hovered just above my ear. He hesitated, words caught in his throat, and in the end he swallowed them; biting the the shell of my ear in place of them. 

His teeth tortured the sensitive crook of my neck, and I moaned into the palm of his hand. Internally I screamed at myself. But I would feel his teeth on my skin and insolently I would whimper against him. 

‘You fool...’

His bites increased in pressure as he moved across my naked shoulder. Teeth marks of red, growing deeper and deeper until he feels my screams rise in volume against his hand, begging him to stop. His mouth leaves my shoulder and his mark on my shoulder catches the light. I turn to assess the damage. Red and angry, an imprint of himself on my skin.

His hands ran down my sides and his thumbs hooked on the hem of my pants. I yelp, but before I could protest he shut me up with his mouth. He was not willing to hear anything I had to say, he didn't want to hear a word, only whatever tortured sounds I could produce.

His hands dipped lower and for a moment cupped my backside, giving me a firm squeeze which forced my temper to rise. Granting me the emotion I needed; anger. But it wasn't enough. I needed hatred. 

His right hand then lowered towards the cuffs around my ankles. 

His fingers all stretched out simultaneously and almost immediately, the cuffs popped open. 

He pushed my trousers down farther until they pooled around my suspended feet. He gently lifted my left leg out of the pant leg, leaving the rest of it pooling at my right ankle. His hand held my thigh and squeezed it, settling between my legs he began to grind against me. He hummed silently.

“Ah-...h-..” My mouth opening in a silent scream as I felt his hardness against the vertex of my thighs. 

I wanted my hands free...I wanted to pull him closer...to anchor myself against him and feel his mouth on mine again. Shit, I was so lost. I probably couldn't even tell you my name if you asked me at this moment...

I made such tortured noises as I pushed forward as far as I could against him. I was gone, I had sunk so deep into him and there was no coming back out. I couldn't recall the point where my indignation became lust, where was the time when I was angry, and not so desperate for him that I wanted to scream? 

There was no point in wondering now anyway, to think on it for too long was terrifying. 

All I wanted was this, all I wanted to think of was him.

The smell of his clothes- of Kylo Ren...oil and rain, his pale skin against mine, and his dark eyes; black as coal and in them, a roaring fire.

His leather clad hand dipped into my underwear and for a second his gloved fingers danced against my clit, forcing a moan from my throat.

I continued attempting a plea but it didn’t matter, his hand was already being held in front of me. 

Evidence of my weakness, of how truly depraved I could be...and to my horror it glistened in what little light there was in my cell. His eyes met mine and in them I saw a predatory sort of enjoyment, and in his smirk...a promise of destruction.

To see the man who only moments ago was nothing more than a slender pillar of darkness, void of humanity- smile..? It terrified me. And yet I wanted to lock those smirking lips with mine. if only to keep from watching that smirk deepen. 

He brought his leather clad fingers to his mouth and sucked them clean, “Oh, fuck...” I cursed. 

Taking the glove between his teeth he pulled it from his long fingers.

More of his skin on mine, more heat transferred between both of our feverish bodies, his teeth bared and his heavy breathing against my neck....

Had he lost himself as well as the purpose for which this had all started? Will there really be nothing after this? 

The glove deftly fell to the ground from between his teeth and he similarly removed the other. 

His long fingers delved back into my underwear, drawing lustful moans from my lips. Every moan, every twitch of my muscles, every silent plea for him to touch me again, was surrender.

Two of his fingers slipped into me and began pumping in and out. I sucked in air...“ah- fuck...” I groaned. My limbs flinched as I instinctively attempted to escape the sudden stimulation.

I could hear Kylo Ren’s breath becoming ragged. Where was this strength he had boasted of?   
At this moment there was nothing else but this act, and he was as much a slave to it as I was.

His fingers moved faster and faster and I felt myself teetering over the edge, but just before I could reach release he pulled away.

My body sagged and I fought the urge to cry out in frustration. But there wasn’t anywhere left to hide, there wasn’t any since the beginning. I don't know why I keep trying.

“I can hear your heart racing...” he whispered to me, “...you are fully enjoying this.” 

My face flushed and I turned away. 

My lips parted tentatively, “But I hear your ragged breath...” I say breathily “...and I feel your shaking hands...not as cold as you claim to be. Are you?” 

Again I saw Kylo Ren’s full lips curl into a deep smile.   
If under different circumstances, in another life, I might have found myself falling for him.

“You are in no position to be challenging me...” He huffed.

For a moment he let me go and stepped away from me. His flowing robes nipping at my feet as he turned away. Slowly he began the long process of removing much of that cloth covering his body. Pitch black material slowly began piling up around him and falling from his slender frame. His eyes did not leave mine for even a moment. 

Eventually he was left in only very simple clothing. A tight fitting black shirt and loose fitting cloth pants, another strip of cloth wrapped around his torso slowly coming undone and slipping off his hips.   
He gripped the black strip of clothing and pulled it away, letting it fall softly to the cold floor. His slender frame stood before me, unmoving. He was silently daring me to call him forward. 

His name burned like a hunk of coal in my throat, I wanted to reach out and pull him closer. To call out to him. But all I could do was whimper like a pathetic pup. 

“Submit.” he says. His hands landing firmly on either side of my head, his body leaning towards mine, inches from me but never touching.

He dangles himself in front of me, taunting me, daring me to reach out knowing full well that I cannot. “Submit to me. Prove to me what I already know to be true.”

“My hands...”

His eyes narrow at me, and his head cocks to the side. My eyes close tight.   
“Please...” I beg. And I feel like I’ve hammered the last nail in my coffin.

Without a second thought the irons unclasp themselves. Kylo Ren’s hands still at either side of my head. He watches me carefully, though he is confident that if I were to try anything now, he would easily subdue me. But escape or violence isn't on my mind, hasn't been for an alarming amount of time now.

Cautiously, my hands reached out, and slid along his body. My palms swept along the Sith’s stomach, muscles rippled and tensed as my fingers explored every bump and curve. He was hot to the touch, and his chest was strong, I saw it begin to rise and fall rapidly yet his eyes remained observant. 

His brows furrowing together as I touched him. But this is my submission. My hands swept across his neck, to his jaw finally cupping his face. I looked into his eyes. Dark as ever, and pulled them nearer. My thumb playing with his full lips for a second before pressing my own against his. 

Kylo Ren closed his eyes and I heard him sigh into me. A sigh...that revealed so much more than he had wanted. 

The kiss was slow and deep, sweeter than anything he had expected. He hummed against my lips, wanting to slip his tongue between my lips but denying himself.

Quickly he broke it, growling to himself he was tempted to turn and walk out of the cell.

Catching this moment of doubt, but unwilling to let him escape, I reached out and palmed his hardness. 

He hissed and his throat strained to capture the moan threatening to escape his lips.

My hands were quickly pulled away. Kylo Ren chuckled...”That’s twice now.... That's enough.”

Twice. Two times I've had the chance to rebel. To let it end. 

Kylo Ren reached into his trousers and in his hand he took his length and began to pump himself. It was a hypnotizing sight. Pulling his trousers down slightly he freed himself from the now uncomfortably tight clothing. His cock was hard and strained in want. 

I wanted to release him from such sublime pain, to reach out and touch him, to taste him. 

“You want me?” he asked. As if he didn't already know the answer.

I bit my lip and nodded my head, reaching out to grasp his length, but before I could he moved away...

“Say it. Tell me you want me.”

I have died so many times already, and yet he forces me to fall on my sword at his feet again and again.

“I...” I licked my lips “...I want you...” my hands reached out to him again “...please...I need you...”

Satisfied, he stepped towards me, lifted my leg and pressed himself against me.   
I could feel his length against my inner thigh, and pressed against my stomach. My arms wrapped around his neck and his lips found their way to the sensitive skin of my throat. 

I slipped a hand between us and palmed him, taking his length in my hand I ran my nails along his cock and skimmed my fingers along his tip, coating them in precum.

He groaned against my neck, my heart jumped and I wanted to hear him again.   
My hand curled around him and I began pumping his length. His hips twitched forward driving him further against the palm of my hand. 

His hand lowered and covered mine, moving it up and down against his hardness, his breathy moans crashing against my neck, before pushing it away. I brought my fingers to my lips and tasted them. His salty flavor covered my tongue, a taste not easily acquired but if given the chance...I would have dropped to my knees.

He growled as he saw my fingers licked clean.   
Quickly ridding me of my underwear he pressed himself against my pussy, coating his cock in my wetness, biting my ear as he did so.

I moaned into his shoulder; squirmed and pressed myself as close to him as I could get, trying to position myself so that I could get him to enter me.

But suddenly I felt that same heavy energy as last night, pressing down on my body, rendering me immobile. Using his power he kept me still, paralyzing my muscles. I whined-as much as I could-, frustrated that I was forced to move at his pace. 

He teased my entrance a while longer, drawing moans and silent pleas from my body.

For a split second his eyes met mine. And in them there was that sense of knowing, that feeling more dangerous than anything either of us had encountered before. Maybe, especially to someone like him. 

Feelings locked away and denied, buried and struggled against; to feel them tugged at in a moment where we are both so exposed. So vulnerable. It's so uncanny, so ensnaring that he felt as though for a split second he had once again touched the light. And what did this mean for me?

Doubt remains within the both of us. 

He finally entered me. Not being able to take it anymore himself, finally crossing the line we both ached to reach. The energy dispersing. 

His head rested at the crook of my neck, one hand at my hips and the other slowly tangling itself in my hair. Moving in and out of me, my hands gripped his shirt, clawed at his back. My cries of pleasure, of relief, falling upon his ears, which drank them in greedily. 

My fingers picked at the hem of his thin, black under shirt. Wanting it gone, I lifted it slightly, pressing my palms against his stomach. 

In a fluid motion he took his shirt and lifted his arms above his head, removing it and flinging it to some unimportant corner of the room.

He was lean but strong, broad shoulders and rippling muscles underneath soft pale skin. They twisted and flexed as he pumped in and out of me. I kissed and licked every part of his naked torso I could reach causing him to shudder and moan. Sounds I would never grow tired of; do anything to draw out.

Now his hands were gripping the last bit of clothing that covered my chest. Pulling it downward to expose my breasts. My nipples quickly peaked in the cold air of the cell. 

He took the heavier flesh in the palm of his hand, weighing it in his hands and massaging with his fingers. In between hungry kisses his fingers pinched at a hardened nipple. Pulling and applying pressure, causing me to hiss and mewl at the pain. Pushing me to my limit I finally cry out for mercy. And he gives my other breast similar attention, mercilessly drawing cries from my throat. 

Regardless of the stimuli, it all pushes me closer to the edge. He painfully digs his fingers into my thigh and I almost lose it. His pace quickens, his grunts grow louder in my ear. I pull his hips tighter against me, moving them back and forth. So close...

“Don’t stop...” I beg. His fingers reached down and with a few swipes of his rough thumb against my clit, I am defeated. I cry out in pleasure as the orgasm sweeps my body. I shudder against him and he isn't far behind. Pumping a few more times, his body tenses and he finishes inside me. I feel his hot cum fill me before he slips his softening length from me. 

The loss of his warmth is shocking and I groan as I suddenly feel distinctly colder. The muscles in my leg feel tight as he slowly lowers it. 

I lean back against the metal slab, exhausted. Muscles still spasming in post orgasmic pleasure. I whimper at the feeling of his own orgasm dripping down my thigh...

Kylo Ren tucks himself back into his trousers, catching his breath he runs a hand through his slick black hair. Taking a moment to compose himself.   
He then slowly approaches and leans into me and whispers, “Why did you call out my name...?”

Before I can ask for clarification he kisses me, and it is surprisingly gentle and intimate...he breaks it and his teeth skim along my jaw until he reaches my neck, placing a soft bite before asking again, “In your sleep...why did you call for me?”

Feeling a familiar tug at my gut, it was difficult to find the words.

My hands rest on him, feeling his still naked chest rise and fall more steadily now. 

“I dreamt of you...” I say lowly. 

His nose nudges at the crook of my neck, encouraging me to continue. 

“I saw you...mm- standing before me, I must’ve called out your name and you...I saw you consumed by light.” 

He pauses and slowly distances his body from mine. He turns away without a word and begins to clothe himself, reaching for his discarded charcoal undershirt.

“Tell me...” he begins “...what do you believe that means...?”

I wanted to go to him, but when I made the movement to move my right ankle was still caught in one of the shackles. 

“I think it means there's still some good in you, Kylo. It doesn't have to be this way.”

He snickered and turned to me “And after what I just did to you, you still think this? I broke you, I used you and felt absolutely nothing. Feel absolutely nothing. You saw what you wanted to see.”

“Maybe you did. But you betrayed yourself as well, you can’t deny that.” I implored him. 

His head levels with mine as he returns to me, and his eyes pierce my own, I break his gaze only to see that his lips are quivering. 

And his voice shutters as he speaks,   
“What are you saying...?” he asks.

I lean forward to try and catch his shaking lips in my teeth. To kiss him once again. But he ducks his head, looking slightly irritated. 

“Don't tell me you didn't enjoy yourself...” I say.

“Enjoy-?” he furiously shakes his head, “...I only set out to teach you a lesson. To make you into an example and I succeeded.”

“You fell prey to temptation as much as I did. You could have stopped, you had proven your point but I- you couldn't stop. And I couldn't let you.”

His throat was suddenly dry. He swallowed hard

“You felt it too...didn't you? I know you feel it because I can see it in your eyes.” I pressed. 

His silence was crushing me. Still naked before him, pleading with him to admit there's was still a chance for absolution. That he felt that immense familiarity as much as I had, that he had seen me and didn't see a stranger; for I had seen him and did not sense an enemy. I must have looked pathetic. I felt pathetic. I just wanted him to say something. Anything.

“No. I didn't.” he replied in a monotone voice.

“You're lying!” I screamed. 

A flash of obsidian and I was cut off. His arm outstretched towards me, fingers splayed out and darkness flowing through them. Energy constricting around my throat and I struggled to breathe. Instinctively my hands clawed at what I could not see. 

“St- Don- d-” I tried to speak but my words were trapped, I stared at Kylo Ren. His eyes fixated at my throat. He was going to kill me. I was going to die and the last thing I would have seen was...Kylo Ren...and a spark of light that I believe could have been relit. 

“Kylo-” I barely managed to say and his eyes flicked up meet mine, darkness was clouding the edges of my eyes and I was losing sight of him fast. “Ky-” 

His brows twitched and...his hand lowered...

The dark energy dissipated and I took in a desperately large breath of air. Clutching my throat I coughed and filled my dying lungs.

Kylo Ren flung his dark cloak around his shoulders and that last shackle unclasped itself. I was completely free and unrestrained. 

“Get dressed.” he commanded me, and I gratefully reached for my clothing that lay strewn about my feet.   
Quickly pulling my coat over my shoulders, and getting into the rest of my clothes, I watched as Kylo Ren silently stood on the other side of the cell. Back in his iconic attire- though he left his helmet off- he faced away from me, with his hands clasped behind his back.

I walked towards him. Placing my hand gently on his broad shoulder, his muscles tensed at my touch. But he turned around calmly to face me.

...

A single searing look....

‘You needed to leave.’ he thought. You needed to leave now.

...

Kylo Ren’s lips parted “Go. I release you.” 

“What...?” My eyes widened. He’s...he’s just going to let me leave now? After all that there's just-  
nothing...

“The guards won't stop you. Make your way to the hangar, they will take you wherever you want to go.”

I stood there, dumbfounded. What could I say...? That I didn't want to go? That I wanted to help him? That I truly thought there was still light in him, that I knew that if he only tried- he could change? That I actually wanted to stay with him? There was nothing I could do, who was I to think that there was? It was stupid just considering it. Of course I couldn't help him. It was impossible to think that he would ever even let me. I saw what I wanted to see. 

I moved toward the door. 

“You're not lost, Kylo. I see you. And I know you see me as well, I only wish you would admit it.”

He watched you put on the last of your gear. That pain. Unbearable pain. Piercing his heart, his body, and soul. He couldn't take it. The maggot writhing and wriggling- disgusting. A heavy weight seemed to grow in his heart, so deep and penetrating that he felt he was dying. 

I stood, done lacing my boots, and he stalked towards me, a dark shadow looming over his face and I was sure he had finally decided my existence was to much of a threat. But his hands did not wrap around my throat for once. Instead they cupped my chin and I was pulled into one last searing kiss.

Instantly throwing my arms around him, we both melted into each other. For a split second I wasn't kissing Kylo Ren, no, this was someone else.

I drank him in and he moaned into my mouth. I never wanted to let go. He slowly took a firm grip of my hair and pulled me away.

“Don't...” I pleaded.

His eyes were filled with more emotion than I had ever seen. 

“Go now. Before I change my mind.”

I tried to convince myself otherwise but- I knew I had no choice. 

I moved towards the door and his hands left my body, my hair moved smoothly through his departing fingers. I turned back once more to see his remorseful eyes.

“Good bye.” I said, and I pressed the button on the panel next to the door. It hissed open and I was amazed at how difficult it was to step out of that damned cell. But I did. And finally I had left it all behind. The cell, and Kylo Ren. 

That pain...that unbearable pain...how can this be nothing? It in itself is the evidence he so stubbornly refused to acknowledge. And it would never be forgotten. It would drown out everything whether I noticed it or not. Like white noise. I can only hope he doesn't forget me. He was right about one thing...I'm only half the person that was trapped in that cell. I exit as someone almost completely different.

...

Ben Solo was left in the coldness of the cell. Left to stare into it's reflective walls, floor, and ceiling. He was afraid. Afraid to move. Afraid that if he left the cell before you were gone he would run after you. 

Though even after you had left, he would unwittingly look for you. 

But for now, he stood there, soaking in the confusion and the wriggling sensation of the worm inside him.   
Wondering...wondering as much as you, if there was truly nothing left. A connection is lost, but is it's meaning lost as well? And if not, then what was left? What was left of him? Left of Kylo Ren? 

He was never a single thing. Much as he tried to be the single thing his master wanted. Much as he tried to see it all in black and white as he did, it was difficult. It was never so simple for him.

He was always reckless, as unrealized and unstable as his lightsaber. And that, as you had revealed, would be his salvation or his destruction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was trying to break this up into at least two more chapters but ah...it didn't really work hehe. So here is the final chapter in it's entirety. Kylo Ren. Right? haha wow I am so obsessed, I started writing this on the day of the premier and wrote on and off for a while. And now-- for better or worse --it's finally up so I can share my love for this new villain and this universe.

**Author's Note:**

> I think I'm using too many metaphors...too prose-y. Ah well I got naughty stuff coming up. Drop a comment, let it all go to my head.


End file.
